


Who Are You?

by Rinzler



Series: Retellings [2]
Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: M/M, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2014-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-26 10:37:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2648948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinzler/pseuds/Rinzler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A retelling of Season 1, Episode 6 from Greg's point of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Are You?

“So, how many grains of sand in the ocean, huh?” Greg mutters to himself, leaning over the microscope. These grains aren't all that interesting, or really sand, but-

“I don't care about the ocean. Just the sand in my skeleton. Can you pinpoint a beach?”

-he'd rather not let Nick know that just yet. He rarely gets Nick's evidence in his lab, so any time he can get the gorgeous CSI to stop by is time he is going to stretch out for as long as humanly possible.

“I don't know. Might have to do some field research,” Greg says, turning to face Nick and glancing up through his eyelashes with his best come-hither that-was-an-innuendo smile firmly in place. He's spent a while perfecting it; half-smirk and half-smile. He thinks it looks good on him. “You think Grissom would send me to Hawaii?” _Come on, Nick,_ he mentally chants. _Imagine me shirtless. On a beach. With you. Come on._

Nick's eyes flick upwards, then he clears his throat and glances away from Greg. “Why don't you ask him yourself?” Greg is about to frown over his obvious, sudden discomfort when-

“Ask me what?” Comes Grissom's voice, and there goes Greg's chance of keeping Nicky-boy here for any longer than he absolutely has to.

Greg turns away from Nick, sighing inwardly. “Uhm, nothing,” he says, straightening up and trying not to look too much like he has anything to hide- besides his annoyance that someone has, yet again, interrupted the only time alone he gets with the most handsome CSI that Las Vegas has ever seen.

(Okay, so he's a bit biased on that. Sue him. Half the lab is in lust with Nick. He's not alone in this.)

“I, uh, was just,” he continues awkwardly, trying not to look at either Nick or Grissom, “telling Nick about your sand. Well, it's not sand.” He cringes a little bit. He wasn't planning on giving that up without at least a few minutes of decent conversation. “It's not natural, anyway. Here, check this out.” He gestures at the microscope and moves away to make room for Grissom, stepping backward into what he estimates (read: hopes) is Nick's personal space.

“Now if this were natural sand the surface would be smooth. This looks more like Freemont Street on a Saturday night. Rough.” He drawls the last word, trying to stretch it out and make is sound as filthy as possible without being too obvious. He tilts his head up and grins at Nick while he does, bright and inviting, before glancing down at Grissom again.

“Could the particles be sediment from the concrete where we found her?” Nick asks, arms crossed in front of his chest and head tilted to look at Greg, eyes thoughtful.

The gigantic crush part of Greg would like to let him run with that assumption for a few minutes before shooting it down to once again prove his genius, but the scientist part vetoes that almost immediately. “No, no way. I analyzed the mineral content, it's feldspar and quartz. That's crushed gray sandstone. It's man-made. In a rock crusher.” He glances back at Nick, his breath catching slightly at just how close the other man is. If Nick is one of those guys who's gorgeous from a distance, he's swoon-worthy up close- all dark and intense, focused on the task at hand.

“What does that mean?” Nick says, and uh-oh, does he sound a little annoyed. Nice going there, Greg.

“It means she wasn't killed in Hawaii,” Grissom says with the barest of smirks. Nick grins at Greg too, and the embarrassment of an overheard conversation is worth it for the flutter he feels in his chest at the sight of Nick's eyes lighting up with amusement. Greg ducks his head to the side slightly after a few seconds of looking. Nick's smile is really nice and makes him feel all fuzzy inside, but he's getting the urge to do something stupid like grab Nick by the collar of his short and kiss him silly, and that would get him in trouble for sure.

“Other than that, he has no idea,” Grissom concludes, looking straight at Greg, and now maybe the overheard conversation wasn't really worth it if it means Grissom is going to make him look like a clueless idiot in front of Nick.

Then Nick steps closer and puts one hand on the side of Greg's neck, grip heavy and solid, and the other on his chest, and Greg's heart starts going double-time at Nick's laughter and the warmth surrounding him.

Forget the embarrassment. So. Worth. It.


End file.
